


Red Sky At Morning

by KivrinEngle



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Bilbo Is Awesome, Durin Family, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Gen, M/M, Pirates, Thorin's A+ Parenting, Thorin's idiot pirate company, swashes will be buckled
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3145679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivrinEngle/pseuds/KivrinEngle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pirate AU nobody needed: OR, How Bilbo Baggins leaves behind respectability and finds himself swept away with the most notorious pirate of the age, and discovers the depths to which evil will sink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Oakenshield

The Admiral’s Bookend was the tiniest, dustiest shop on all of Bagshot Row. Bilbo Baggins liked to try to believe, when he was feeling particularly generous, that it had once seen better days. Perhaps better centuries. This, however, was not one of his generous days, and he scowled at his surroundings. The rickety shelves were laden so high with books in various states of disrepair that he could easily envision them all toppling over like a deadly set of dominoes. It was dark and gloomy in the little shop, the light of the dying afternoon sun barely peeking in through the little gaps left in the windows, with their stacks of books serving as defense against any form of cheer from the outside. 

Bilbo peered up the narrow flight of steps leading back to the street, judging his chances. There were an unusual number of ships in the harbor now, and he could usually count on extra revenue during such times, with bored officers stopping in to replenish their stores of entertainment before setting out to sea again - but perhaps not on such a day. Already he could hear the sounds of the mob gathering, making their way along the narrow streets toward the Sands, and likely overindulging in various forms of alcohol which were certain to make their gathering all the rowdier. It was not likely to be a good day for selling books. 

He nodded decisively, and slammed his ledger book shut as he hopped up from his stool. He would risk a few lost pennies, if it meant he could be part of the event this time. When Thomas Green and his men had been hanged, only a few months back, Bilbo had missed it entirely while reorganizing a collection of encyclopedias that were never going to sell. This time, he wasn’t going to risk missing out on the biggest source of gossip and excitement the town was likely to see for a long while. 

It wasn’t that often they got to hang a pirate, after all. 

He groaned aloud when, just as he was about to make his escape, the way out was blocked by a familiar and woefully overexcitable figure. “Not today, lad,” he sighed, shaking his head wearily. “I’m afraid I’m shutting up for the evening. We’ll have to discuss whatever obscure and dreadful play you’ve got your eye on another day.”

Usually, he was quite glad to spot his current guest - but then again, he usually wasn’t hurrying to see a good execution, either. Young Kili was a frequent guest, and had been stopping by Bilbo’s little hole in the ground for years - always respectful of the books, and a source of decent conversation, so Bilbo allowed him to peruse the wares as long as he liked, and usually found himself offering tea to the lad, despite his firm policies against such frivolities with customers. Kili had slipped under his defenses the first time he stopped in, as a rather bedraggled-looking cabin boy of ten, and he’d continued to do so for the next six years or so, until Bilbo found himself thinking of the lad as almost a friend. 

But when he looked at the lad properly, Bilbo found himself more than a bit surprised. Kili was usually a disgusting display of cheerfulness in the midst of dust and gloom. Today, he looked half-frantic, and his usually immaculately-kept midshipman’s uniform was a shambles. He had been so proud to stop in and show it off to Bilbo when he’d first received his commission! Bilbo half wondered whether that spoke more to the lad’s pride, or to the lack of friendly faces he had to speak to, but he had kept that to himself. Kili’s long, dark hair had half escaped from his queue, and was curling wildly and falling in his face as though it had a life of it’s own.

“Do you know anything about maps?” Kili blurted out, one hand shooting out to grab Bilbo’s sleeve desperately. “Old ones. Really old.”

Bilbo blinked at him, beyond startled. “I’ve read a book or three on the subject,” he said slowly. “I’m nothing like an expert, you understand, but I’ve an inkling of how they work, I think.” Maps were, in fact, one of Bilbo’s favourite topics, and one he considered himself a bit of an amateur expert in - but he had learned long ago that it did not do to give one’s strengths away all at once. 

“Good,” Kili said firmly, and began to tow him away. “And how’s your sword-work?” 

“Swords?” Bilbo dug his heels in, and gaped at the boy. “Hold hard there, my lad. What are you up to? If you’ve gotten yourself in trouble again -”

“Not me! Not this time!” Kili shook his head fast, and then regarded Bilbo worriedly for a minute. “Can’t say yet. There’s trouble - someone else’s, thank the maker, and I need your help.” 

Bilbo groaned. “All I want to do is go down to the Sands and see the execution!” he fussed. “Can’t you beguile some other hapless shopkeeper into your schemes this time? There’s always the Sackville-Bagginses, you know - you may consider yourself given free reign to bring down trouble on their heads!”

“The Sands,” Kili muttered, ignoring him entirely. That was deeply unlike him, and Bilbo frowned. “Yes, that’s where we’re going. Come on, please, Mr. Baggins! There’s no time to lose!”

Bilbo held out long enough against those dark, pleading eyes to lock up his shop, but that was all. He found himself trotting along beside the young midshipman at a pace that was a little more than comfortable for him. Kili’s legs seemed to have grown even longer in the few months since Bilbo had last seen him - although part of him would never stop seeing the lad as the tiny, pale-faced child who had wandered into his shop years before. He was taller than Bilbo by a good head or more now, and wore a uniform he had earned all on his own - and it suited him well. A prince in all his finery couldn’t look prouder than his young friend in his dark jacket and white pants, the gold buttons shining grandly in the low afternoon sun.

Kili led them on toward the Sands, darting through side-streets and along hidden avenues that Bilbo had never even known existed. “No time,” he muttered darkly as they darted under a line of hanging clothes. “He’ll kill me if I’m late!”

“Bard?” Bilbo gasped, wheezing for breath. “Never known him - kill you yet,” he panted. “Should, maybe.”

Bard, the Captain of the Black Arrow, had been the only person Bilbo had ever known Kili to show any sign of respect for. For his Captain, Kili kept to curfews and maintained his uniform. Bard had apparently looked after him with unusual regard, for the Navy, and had helped to see that the lad made midshipman. But Kili shook his head.

“No - the Captain doesn’t know.” He looked stricken at that, and turned around to run half-sideways while he looked at Bilbo. “He doesn’t know at all, Mr. Baggins. How am I going to explain this to him?”

“No idea,” Bilbo wheezed. “Haven’t - explained - to me.”

Kili ignored that, and ran even faster. Bilbo cursed the young - all of them, in fairly specific terms - and tried his best to keep up. 

They made it to the Sands far faster than he could have expected, and Kili somehow maneuvered him through the crowd that had gathered to watch the execution, hugging the sides of buildings as they moved inexorably toward the high wooden platform that had been constructed for the occasion. Bilbo peered up at it as they went, and felt a little shudder crawl down his back. Piracy was a dreadful thing, it was true, and there was no doubt that it had to be stomped out wherever possible. But the gallows was even more dreadful, reaching up toward the darkening clouds with a stark cruelty that made him shiver. The breeze picked up, cold even for so early in the spring, and the smell of the sea was heavy in the air. Just beyond the crowd, the waves crashed onto the rocky shore, as if seeking out their own.

He had thought he wanted to see an execution. Now, he was glad that Kili was apparently set on providing him an irresistible distraction. 

Bilbo was startled out of his thoughts as he crashed headlong into the lad, who had stopped abruptly at the edge of a little pub that sat along the water, and was now peering out into the crowd, murmuring under his breath.

“Come on, come on,” Kili whispered. 

“Do you ever intend to tell me what’s going on?” Bilbo asked dryly, glad to have regained his breath so that he could speak without embarrassment. 

“It’s - a family matter,” Kili said, and winced. 

“Family,” Bilbo said slowly. “Lad, I may have it all wrong, but in the years we’ve known one another, you’ve never spoken of family.”

“That’s because I don’t have one,” Kili said sharply, and then winced again, and shook his head. “Or rather, I do, and that’s the whole problem, you see?”

Bilbo did not see. At all. But Kili seemed to feel as if that had been explanation enough, and turned back to stare out into the crowd, looking increasingly more frantic. All around them, the mob was cheering and chanting, the noise growing with every second.

There was a shout of recognition from somewhere closer to the gallows, and Bilbo could feel the whole tone of the crowd shift, growing darker and hungrier. He couldn’t help himself. With the strategic use of his sharp elbows and a nearby water barrel, Bilbo managed to position himself slightly above the heads of the crowd, cursing his short stature as he struggled to get a glimpse of the day’s storied main character. The pirate was being led out on to the gallows, hands shackled behind him, and Bilbo nearly toppled off his barrel as he got his first proper look.

The setting sun was perfectly aligned behind the man, serving to make his already tall and muscular frame look even more impressive. He looked, Bilbo thought absently, rather as though he had been dipped in gold all around the edges - except his hair, where silver hairs shone in the dark strands like stars in the heavens. He looked rather exactly like a pirate ought to, down to the billowy white shirt and the tattoos Bilbo could barely make out, inked into his forearms. There was no patch on his eye, nor parrot on his shoulder, but Bilbo could accept that not every detail had to be perfectly reproduced from his books. This was a pirate, beyond all doubt - and he was about to be hanged.

“Where is he?” Kili hissed, spinning in a quick circle and nearly startling Bilbo again from his insecure perch. Around them, the crowd was beginning to pick up a chant, their disparate roars becoming one cohesive idea that grew in strength and power as it rumbled through the crowd.

“Who?” Bilbo asked, and found he needed to shout to be heard.

“My thrice-damned fool of a brother!” Kili snapped. He spun around again, and then slumped against the wall next to Bilbo, looking frantic and more than a little defeated, all at once. “Of course, I suppose it would be easier looking for him if I had a clue what he looked like.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, surprised yet again by the lad at his side, and then was distracted by the man on the gallows platform, who was refusing to kneel and pray. He stood tall, chin held high, and seemed to be staring out at the lot of them in defiance of their right to condemn him. 

“I look the same as I always have, little brother,” said a voice from right behind Kili, and now Bilbo did topple over, falling heavily against Kili. He didn’t seem to notice. “Better than you!”

The newcomer looked as unlike Kili as Bilbo could imagine. He was dressed in a riot of patches and colors, and his golden hair flowed loose around his shoulders, except for the bits that were neatly twisted into shining braids. His ears were pierced with multiple bright hoops and rings, and a long, ragged scar was traced down the length of his face, giving him an almost dangerous appearance. Where Kili was still lanky and awkward, unsure of his own height and feet, their new arrival seemed to radiate supreme confidence in himself. He hooked his thumbs into his belt and grinned crookedly at Kili, bright blue eyes wrinkling at the corners. Kili stared at him, and Bilbo could not decide whether it was suspicion, delight, or fear that was gaining the upper hand in his expression. It was frankly exhausting, just watching his young face struggle with such indecision, and Bilbo shook him gently by one shoulder, hoping to hurry things along. 

“Are you Fili?” Kili asked, sounding - shy, of all things, and Bilbo gaped at him in surprise. He had never known Kili to be wary, even when he ought to be. The newcomer dipped his head in acknowledgment, turning it into a little bow that was remarkable in its gracefulness. 

“At your service,” he said merrily. Straightening again, he shook his head in mock dismay. “Not even knowing your own brother? I’m surprised at you, Kili.”

“It’s been more than a decade! People change,” Kili argued. Still, Bilbo could see the smile beginning to creep over his young features, and watched in some surprise as some of the tension seemed to go out of Kili’s shoulders. “Oh, and this is Mr. Baggins!” Kili shoved him forward a little with a firm hand on his back. “Mr. Baggins, my brother Fili, it would seem.”

Fili looked him over, and then raised an eyebrow at Kili. “This is our expert?”

“He’s brilliant!” Kili said hotly, chin flying up as he faced down his brother. “Mr. Baggins knows just about everything, and he’s read all the books there are. He can do it!”

But the supposedly brilliant Mr. Baggins was no longer paying much attention. The crowd were screaming, now, and clapping in rhythm with their chant as the pirate at the gallows was manhandled into position. An official stepped forward to tie a white cloth around his face, but he shook his head, and never stopped staring out into the crowd. He almost seemed to be looking for someone. 

“We need to move,” Fili said quickly - and suddenly all the merriment in him was gone, and he just looked dangerous. Kili stepped back a little, but nodded in agreement. 

“Stay here, Mr. Baggins,” he said, and it was at least half a plea. “We’ll come get you when it’s over.”

“What is?” Bilbo demanded. He had had quite enough of being dragged around uselessly, without so much as a hint of what he was doing. “The execution?”

“There isn’t going to be an execution,” Fili declared. He grinned at Bilbo again, and this time Bilbo stepped back, more than a little worried by the intensity on the boy’s face. “We’re here to stop it.”

“Stop it? Whatever for?” Bilbo turned to Kili, who had until this moment seemed like a fairly rational young man, and looked desperately for any sign of sanity in him. “Kili, what’s he saying? Why should you prevent the execution of a known and very dangerous pirate?”

Kili hesitated a moment, his fingers straying up to touch the white collar patch that was such a proud mark of the rank he had earned - and then he glanced at his brother, and sighed heavily. “Because that pirate is our uncle, Mr. Baggins.”

Bilbo gaped at him, and then looked up again at the striking figure on the gallows, about to be hanged. The roar of the crowd filled his ears, and he hardly noticed as Fili and Kili vanished into the crowd. The chant went on and on, and Bilbo stared up at the man on the gallows, who almost seemed to be looking back at him.

“Kill the Oakenshield!” The crowd roared, as with one voice. “Kill the Oakenshield!”

He should have stayed at the shop, after all.


	2. Loyalty

There was little time for Bilbo to regret all of the life choices that had led him to this particular moment, much though he would have liked to do so. A minute after he had been abandoned on the edge of the crowd, things began to fall apart all around him. 

Up on the gallows, the officiant placed a heavy noose around the pirate’s neck and moved around behind him to secure the knot in the correct position. Bilbo took a moment to regret the reading he had done in the past that gave him a horribly thorough understanding of the process of hanging a man, and how it might be done with comparative kindness or with sheer sadism. He blinked back the crowding thoughts, and looked up at Oakenshield, trying to see how the man might be Kili’s uncle. 

He was too far away to make out more than the barest details of facial expression on the man, but the heavy scowl on his face was certainly not one Kili had ever worn around Bilbo. Any way he thought about it, it simply did not seem to make sense. 

Everyone knew of the Oakenshield. The part of Bilbo’s brain that kept the entire catalog of his books in order quickly threw up several titles that he himself carried in his shop, either entirely about the man and his family, or featuring them heavily. Oakenshield was not the man’s proper name, of that he was certain. It was a title that was passed down from father to son, tying together at least three generations of what the broadsheet scandal-mongers liked to bill as the “Royal Family of Piracy” - or, to fit better in the popular ballads, “The Bloody Oakenshields.” They were fiercely private, even as they were horrifyingly, bloodily public in the execution of their crimes. In all the books Bilbo had ever read, no-one had given personal names to the Oakenshield or his men - nor indeed to his women! It was known far and wide that the Oakenshield sailed with female pirates, and they had been reported by the few survivors of an encounter with his crew as being just as fierce and dangerous as any of the men.

The Oakenshield raised his chin as the noose was cinched into place, and turned his gaze away from the crowd, looking out to what Bilbo knew was the merest glimpse of the sea. There was a lump in Bilbo’s throat as he watched the man prepare to die, and he could not begin to think of what it would be like to stand there, awaiting death.

Then, from mere feet away in the direction of the shore, there was a terrible explosion that startled Bilbo badly enough to knock him off his feet. He curled into a ball, bringing his hands up to cover his head, and found himself thinking distantly that it had probably always been too much to hope that the execution of the Oakenshield would go according to plan. A shower of debris rained down on him, though none of it terribly large or dangerous, and Bilbo stayed down, tucked into his little ball as the crowd began screaming again. There was rushing all around him, and Bilbo endured half a dozen kicks to the ribs by frantic passers-by before he decided he had had enough, and clambered to his feet, brushing ashes and splinters off his coat with almost steady hands. 

A fire was burning at the edge of the Sands, no more than a few yards from the sea itself. It looked as though a small building had exploded, though Bilbo had no recollection of what had stood there before. The crowd were running and screaming now, and Bilbo looked around frantically for the lads who had been with him moments before, hoping they were not caught up in the madness - but no! There, at the opposite side of the crowd, he spotted Kili. The boy had climbed high atop a market stall, and was standing firm in the middle of the crowd, directing them out through a narrow street that would lead them away from the smoke and flame. Bilbo gaped at the boy. His uniform and his height drew all eyes, even in the madness, and Bilbo could see the crowd looking to him for direction, and then following his orders. 

Another explosion rang out, this one near the base of the gallows itself, and the people panicked. They began to trample one another in their hurry to escape, and Bilbo found himself swept along in the crowd for a dusty, claustrophobic minute, until he could pull himself out of the current of humanity to wash up on another sheltered island of sanity. There - by the base of the gallows - came a flash of color and motion, and Bilbo spotted Fili darting away from the now roaring fire, golden hair shining in the terrible light. 

And then Kili pushed by his brother, the two never stopping to speak, and he was at the back of the pack, urging people forward and away - just as a third roar of fire and smoke went up in a third location. 

“We’re trapped!” an old man bellowed, near enough by his location that Bilbo could actually make out the words. The white-haired old fellow swung forward just as Kili darted by and grabbed him by the lapels, bringing the lad to a halt. “Where are the Marines? We’re being herded to our deaths!” The people nearby reacted in total panic at those words, grabbing at their neighbors as though they might somehow save themselves.

“Indeed we are not, sir,” Kili shouted back. He had them all moving again in a moment, sending them away down various streets with commanding roars that Bilbo was quite startled to hear from the lad. He was beginning to think that Kili had missed his career in the management of large crowds when he spotted Fili rushing past again, and saw the hand-off - and then there was yet another bang off to his right, as Kili lobbed the explosives directly behind the crowd, so that the explosion set them all running and panicking again. 

They were doing it, Bilbo realised with horrified surprise. It had been Fili and Kili all along - and it was working. The formerly crowded execution plaza was more than half-empty now, and the remainder of the crowd were running as fast as they could push their neighbors along, leaving the gallows unwatched.

Unwatched. 

Bilbo looked up sharply, peering up into the gloom of the fallen evening and the clouds of thick black smoke. The Oakenshield was still there, standing tall and proud - but no. No, he was not - for as Bilbo watched, there was a terrible jerk, and the ground gave way beneath him. He tumbled down a few feet, only to be caught tight by the rope around his neck. Bilbo’s hands flew to his mouth, and he looked around to see who else had seen - but they were all running and screaming. 

“Kili!” he shouted, taking off for where he had last seen the lad. “Fili, Kili! Fili!”

It was more chance than skill that brought him upon them, and Bilbo crashed into Fili without even slowing himself. “Oakenshield!” Bilbo pointed, choking on the words. “Oakenshield! Look!” 

Fili looked up and, spotting the dangling figure of the pirate, spat out the foulest curse Bilbo had ever heard, and slapped Kili’s shoulder hard with the back of one hand. He jerked his head at his brother; Kili nodded once, and they took off in two different directions, just as though they were following a well-ordered plan. Bilbo spun in place for a minute, trying to watch them both, and then gave it up. His hands flew up to his head in dismay as he looked at the hanging man. His feet were kicking vigorously, and he danced and spun at the end of his rope as he fought for breath. Bilbo throat ached abominably in sympathy.

In a mere moment, Kili was by the Oakenshield’s side, reaching up as far as he could to lift the man up, clearly hoping to provide some relief. Atop the gallows, Bilbo spotted a flash of bright color. A man came tumbling down off the side an instant later, clearly either dead or knocked unconscious as soon as he hit the ground; a moment later, the rope that had held the Oakenshield slithered sinuously down from on high, and he fell atop Kili, knocking them both to the ground. 

Bilbo started off at once. He hardly noticed the accumulations of debris and abandoned personal affects as he rushed over to the gallows - though to do what, he could not have said. At any rate, he was not the first there. Just as he was pulling up nearby, two of the City Guard appeared as if from thin air, and had the pirate by the arms, hauling him to his feet as he gasped and choked for air. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” the taller of the guards demanded, grabbing Kili by one arm. “Interfering with the execution of a condemned criminal? By the gods, I’ll see you hang for this yourself! Who is your captain?”

Bilbo stuttered to a halt, mouth dropping open in dismay. 

“You misunderstand, sir,” Kili said, sounding as though he were merely reporting on the weather. He gave a neat little bow, standing at something like attention, and smiled disarmingly. “I’ve been ordered to help secure the prisoner. This is clearly an escape attempt. Our orders were to re-secure him until a formal execution procedure could be seen through.”

The guards relaxed a bit, letting go of the lad as they adjusted their grip on the pirate. Up close, Bilbo finally got a good look at the man, and found that he could now add useful descriptors about piercing blue eyes and strong lines of muscle and bone in a terrifying, mesmerizing face that - 

He found he was staring more than might be politely attributed to curiosity, and looked away quickly - just in time to spot Fili sneaking up behind the guards with a heavy chunk of fallen wood in his hands. Without a word exchanged between them, Kili ducked smoothly just in time to avoid the first blow, and snatched the Oakenshield away from the second guard a mere second before Fili struck him as well. By the time Bilbo had blinked once or twice, in open-mouthed amazement, the lads and their apparent uncle were standing before him in front of a backdrop of fire and smoke - but there was no pursuit yet, and no witnesses left to their deeds. 

“How,” Bilbo asked, holding up a curious finger and squinting at them, breathing deeply, “how did you do that? I have never in all my life seen anything like that.” 

“No time,” Fili said briskly, darting glances around and behind in a way that suggested he had already worked out exactly how and when the next threats would reach them. “Can you run, Baggins?”

But they were already off, and Bilbo found himself tagging along behind them for no good reason that he could give, except that he had stood near enough to see them almost die, and yet they were still alive. Well, that, and the fact that anyone who lingered in that place was likely to find their own neck in a noose next, he supposed. 

They were heading for the rocky shore, where the waves were rolling in with a deceptive calm. Bilbo knew from experience that they were cold as spite, and wickedly strong, and he drew up short at the edge of the sea. The light of the sun was gone, except for a fading glow that hung steady at the horizon, and the stars were beginning to appear in the sky.

“We’re not going to swim, are we?” he asked, eying the water with trepidation.

“What poor sort of pirates do you take us for?” 

Bilbo stepped back a whole pace at that, because it was the pirate he had helped to rescue who growled the question at him - growled, indeed, with his hair hanging in his face, and his eyes blazing fury. He only glanced at Bilbo for a moment before clearly dismissing him from all consideration, and turning to Fili. 

“Shore-boat?” he asked hoarsely. Fili nodded, a grin creeping across his face again, making him look far younger than the insanely dangerous manic whom Bilbo had just seen kill or incapacitate a large number of people. 

“Shore-boat,” he agreed. He looked closely at the Oakenshield’s neck, and shook his head. “Closest thing yet. Suppose I may get to be the Oakenshield some day after all, if you carry on at this rate!”

His uncle clenched a massive fist in Fili’s shirt-front, hauling him forward, and for a second, Bilbo was afraid that even kin were not exempt from the pirate’s wrath. But instead of flinging him to the ground, the Oakenshield brought him forward into a quick, rough embrace, and slapped him on the back so hard that Bilbo winced in sympathy. It was a short-lived moment, though, and then they were off again at a fast pace - Fili and the Oakenshield in the lead, and Bilbo and Kili trailing along like rather clueless tails in the gathering darkness behind them. 

“Is that really your uncle?” Bilbo hissed at Kili, darting a nervous glance ahead. He would not put it past this man to have superior senses, nor to turn and knock him out for daring to ask another question.

Kili shrugged, looking little more at ease than Bilbo felt. “So Fili says - and that’s assuming this really is Fili.”

“So you really don’t recognise him?” Bilbo pressed. 

“I haven’t seen him for more than a decade,” Kili said quietly. He sounded wistful. “I don’t remember much of him, either - just that he was very tall, and always looked out for me.”

“How did you know to meet him today, then?”

Kili glanced over at him, clearly thinking about whether to answer the question at all, and then gave up. “We’ve written over the years. Letters, when we could manage; messages left in secret spots when we couldn’t.” He gave Bilbo a mischievous grin for just a moment, suddenly looking like the Kili he knew. “We’ve been exchanging messages in your shop for years, you know. I got word of what had happened yesterday, when we reached port.”

“But the way you worked together,” Bilbo protested. “How did you plan all of that with only messages passed back and forth?”

“We didn’t plan any of it,” Kili said flatly. Bilbo closed his mouth at that, and followed after the long-legged family as best he could, glancing behind them for signs of pursuit all the way. 

They finally slowed when they reached a large rock outcropping on the beach, and Fili darted away beyond the cover of the rock. Bilbo glanced up at the Oakenshield, half afraid of what he might say in the absence of his nephew. He needn’t have feared. The man simply stared out to sea as they waited, one hand coming up to rub restlessly at his throat. Kili shifted nervously from foot to foot beside Bilbo, and then stilled all at once, snapping himself to attention and standing with military formality. 

Fili was back in moments, wading through the surf without a care for the cold as he pushed a little rowboat ahead of him, grounding it firmly on the shore. The Oakenshield strode forward to take his place in the boat, and Bilbo glanced over at Kili, wondering what he was supposed to do next. Fili glanced up at them, and his brow wrinkled in confusion. “Well, come on, then! They’ll be after us any minute!”

“Where is it we’re meant to be going?” Bilbo asked cautiously. “I’m all for not getting arrested for the indecencies of your lot, but I’m not about to just climb in and sail off with no idea where we’re headed.”

“You will, if you wish to keep your head,” Fili said jovially. “And you, little brother. Might as well leave that uniform behind, as well. You won’t be needing it again.” 

Kili looked about as pleased as Bilbo felt with this turn of events. He would have argued for days, if only out of a desperate desire to keep his feet firmly planted on solid ground, had it not been for the sudden cry of triumph that came from behind them. They had been spotted after all, and Bilbo remembered the mood of the crowd with a sickening jolt. They could not stay and be captured - not if they were to be blamed for the escape of the Oakenshield. He nodded once, and then again as a means of strengthening himself, and hauled Kili forward, flinging them both into the little boat. Fili pushed them off before leaping in himself, and Bilbo grabbed the sides of the boat as it swayed sickeningly back and forth. Kili had a paddle to hand in a moment, and Fili grabbed the other, shoving them forward with long, smooth strokes. Bilbo put his head down on his knees as he tried to breathe.

“What ship are we making for?” Kili asked after a few minutes, when the shore was fading from view behind them and the voices of their pursuers could no longer be heard. “Is she in harbor? You can leave me there, and I’ll find my way back to my ship.”

They laughed, then - Fili and the Oakenshield - and it was a dark and dangerous sound. 

“Our ship doesn’t make harbor,” the Oakenshield said darkly, through a throat that sounded impossibly painful. He leaned forward in the prow of the shore-boat, peering out into the darkness, which was now only broken by the glimpses of moonlight that peeked through the clouds now and again. After a long, silent watch, he finally leaned forward so fast that Bilbo half-thought he would dive into the sea. “There! Starboard, and mind how you turn,” he snapped at the lads. Fili just nodded at him with a hint of a lazy smile, but Kili straightened quickly and made the beginnings of a salute, before stopping himself. 

It was minutes longer before Bilbo could see anything at all. His heart seemed to pick up it’s pace with every oar-stroke as he strained his eyes out into the darkness, beyond the point of fear. He was headed toward a pirate vessel, accompanied by the pirates in question, and he was completely uncertain whether he was a captive or a guest. The glimpses he got of Kili’s face, when the moon shone on the lad, were enough to reassure him he was not alone in his discomfort. It was not much of a solace. 

When the ship appeared, gleaming in the moonlight, Bilbo would not have thought it worth much. He saw far grander ships every day, and it was plain to see that this was not a large vessel, nor a particularly wealthy one. But Fili leaned toward her unconsciously, and he watched some of the lines of tension go out of the faces of both pirates, and he did understand. This ship was their home.

“What’s her name?” Kili asked, his whisper barely carrying, but it was full of nothing but respect. He understood, far better than Bilbo ever could.

“Loyalty,” the Oakenshield said. Bilbo shuddered at the sound, at the depth of feeling in the word, and clutched a little tighter at the sides of the little boat. “She’s the Loyalty.” 

“Welcome home,” Fili said, clapping his brother on the shoulder. Bilbo could see Kili shrink back from the touch. Above, the moon’s silver light flickered and then died away as a cloud drifted in front of the old, friendly face, leaving them all in darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't judge Thorin too harshly here - he has just been almost hanged, which can put a damper on anyone's mood! It may take a little ways for them all to find their proper footing after what has happened.
> 
> Also, I need to stop and thank you all profusely for the support and encouragement on this project! I'm having such fun with it already, in a time when I rather desperately need it, and hearing that other folks want to read this silliness is just wonderful. Thank you all so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> OK, friends! Hello and welcome! A few notes:
> 
> For one, I have to acknowledge that this is a very selfish piece in a way, because I've had a deep and abiding interest in piracy for many years, and did a good deal of academic work on the subject. It's nice to be able to dig into some of this again for a different reason! It's also quite selfish because, as I am well aware, I have several unfinished projects on the table that I ought to be finishing before starting something new. Yeah...well. My life has become incredibly difficult and sad of late, and I very much need a project that's just fun and delightful. Which this may or may not turn out to be. But for now, that's where we stand. 
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! I am truly grateful, and hope you're enjoying the story so far!


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